Who Poisoned Cleopatra?
by Lit95
Summary: Morticia's beloved pet has been poisoned and the clues all point to Gomez. (Based on the 1960s tv show)
1. Chapter 1

When Morticia woke up to a sun filled room she knew the day would be a dreary one. She never understood how some people found the penetrating sun so welcoming when the moon had the most inviting allure to it. Nonetheless, daytime had announced itself. Planting a tender kiss on her sleeping husband's cheek, she rolled out of bed and began her morning routine. Once her face was powdered, eye liner winged, lips reddened, hair combed, and slinky black dress was fitted to hug every curve, she took one last look at her dear Gomez and left the room.

Eagerly, she floated downstairs to the conservatory where Lurch had the breakfast table set for her and Gomez. As Lurch was making last minute inspections, she shuffled over to her carnivorous plant, Cleopatra.

"Good morning Cleopatra," she exclaimed, picking up the bowl of meatballs, "open for mother." She held up a meatball with her fork, ready for the African Strangler to gobble it down.

"Cleopatra!" she gasped. The large, straggly plant was drooped over the edge of its pot, looking more like a creation of Salvador Dali's melting clocks than a vivacious African Strangler. The pointed leaves which formed around her mouth were opening and closing. She looked like a fish struggling for breath.

Morticia anxiously put down the bowl to hold her beloved pet. The limp plant quietly moaned. Something was terribly wrong and Morticia knew it. "Oh darling, what has happened?" she asked.

Not expecting an answer, she was half startled when a pair of arms wrapped around her waist. "Querida," Gomez purred into her neck, "you look lovely this morning." He started planting kisses on her neck but she hardly noticed.

"Gomez, I'm worried. Cleopatra doesn't seem like herself at all today."

He lifted his lips from her skin, just enough to give a muffled response. "It's early. After breakfast she'll be her carnivorous self."

"But darling, she can't hold her head up, nor can she stand the sight of her meatballs, look!"

Gomez peered over Morticia's shoulder to see part of Cleopatra cradled in her arms. He rubbed his chin. "Strange – a plant that doesn't want meatballs for breakfast?" Then in an ah-ha moment, he exclaimed, "She's tired that's all… and after last night, so am I." He rang the noose to call Lurch for their breakfast.

As Gomez read yesterday's paper, telling Morticia tidbits here and there, her mind couldn't help but wonder about Cleopatra. She pondered the subject until an idea filled her head. When Thing was pouring the last drop of henbane in her cup she excitingly looked at Gomez. "Mama! Of course! She'll know!"

"Why everyone's wanting to drain the swamps?"

"Drain our precious swamps?!" She paused to shake the shocked look away. "No darling, I'm talking about Cleopatra."

"Excellent idea!" He folded his paper and picked up his engineer's hat. "Well, I'm off!"

Feeling slightly jilted from his lack of sympathy, she reached for his arm. "Gomez, don't you want to hear what she has to say?"

"Cara Mia, forgive me, but I don't think there's anything ghastly wrong with Cleopatra. She's an Addams! She'll bounce back. Remember Aunt Flubber?"


	2. Chapter 2

"Did she show earlier signs of lethargy, blue spots, or hallucinations?"

"No, nothing Mama. I came downstairs this morning to feed her and there she was – looking more pitiful than a plant should."

Mama flipped some more pages. Dust went flying everywhere.

The two ladies were in the playroom, where Morticia first found Mama sharpening her axe. Morticia nervously paced as Mama scanned the leather-bound book. She desperately hoped Mama could find a diagnosis and cure.

Her hoped dwindled when she saw her shut the book. "Did you find anything?" She held her breath.

"Well, what did Gomez say?"

"Oh Mama!"

The small, frizzy haired woman stood and went over to her daughter in-law to hand her the book. "Give it a go if ya like. Say, why don't you show me Cleopatra?"

Morticia led Mama to the conservatory. Cleopatra had her head resting on a large stand that held a vase full of thorns. She hadn't moved since Morticia left her early that morning. Mama lifted her head to inspect it.

"Mmm… interesting. Yes, yes, I see," she spoke in a fascinated tone.

"What is it, Mama? What do you see?" Morticia looked Cleopatra up and down to get a glimpse of what Mama was seeing.

The old lady faced Morticia and said matter-of-factly, "She's been poisoned!" She held up an empty bottle labeled with a skull and cross bones to prove it.

Morticia's bright eyes widened. "Poisoned, by whom?" she said indignantly. "Besides myself, Lurch is the only other one who feeds Cleopatra and I know dear Lurch wouldn't possibly dream of doing such a thing."

"Well don't look at me!" Mama handed her the bottle. "Fester and I took the children bat hunting yesterday, remember? We didn't get back until late that night. You, Gomez, and Lurch were the only ones here."

"Yes, I see your point." Morticia gave Cleopatra a gentle pat on the head before sitting down in her wicker peacock chair, which was still situated at the now cleared off breakfast table.

The memories of yesterday were fresh in her mind. The thunderstorms were never ending. The wind howled. The lightning and thunder shrieked. The rain itself was near deafening. With the weather being as nice as it was, and the rest of the family gone, her and Gomez gaily gave Lurch the day off. It was the perfect day. Her and Gomez had the mansion all to themselves – even Thing was gone.

Thinking about yesterday cause her red lips to form a devilish grin. What a divine day it was! Just her and her handsome Castilian. Her and Gomez. _Gomez!_

With a sharp intake of breath, Morticia bolted upright and fixated her eyes back on Mama. Pleadingly, in a half-whisper, she said, "Oh Mama, you don't think Gomez could've done it?"

Mama lit up at the idea. "Say, I never thought of my son as a plant poisoner. How did he react to the news this morning?"

"He didn't. He wasn't moved one ounce. He said there was nothing wrong with her." She threw her arm up in a blasé manner.

"Gomez never was good at hiding secrets."

"Nonsense! Gomez is a very busy man, that's all. There is nothing for him to hide." She held her head high, trying to shake off the uncertainty.

Mama knew their conversation was at a stalemate. Morticia and Gomez were thick as thieves – and rightly so. Seeing that Morticia had given him the benefit of the doubt, she dropped the subject and instead left to make a remedy brew for Cleopatra.


	3. Chapter 3

Morticia idly sat stroking her smoking dragon, mulling over her conversation with Mama. She tried to make sense of the how's, why's, and when's but they wouldn't fit. She was glad. She couldn't bear the thought of her own flesh trying to harm someone so dear to her. It couldn't have been Gomez. He wouldn't harm a spider. But yet, who else could it have been?

"Luuunch," announced a deep voice.

Morticia jumped at the sight of the 7ft tall butler. Collecting herself, she smiled. "Thank you Lurch… Lurch, hasn't Mr. Addams asked for me?"

He shook his head. "Busy."

"Oh?" she froze. It was highly unlike Gomez to go a whole morning without inquiring about her. Even if it was only for a fleeting moment he would always steal a kiss or glance. Trying to hide the worry, she said, "Of course. But I'm sure he'll be at the lunch table waiting."

As expected, Gomez was at the lunch table. However, to Morticia's dismay, he spent most of the time conversing with Uncle Fester about his new chemistry experiment. Mama too, seemed equally interested in Uncle Fester's experiment. As the three freely talked and ate, Morticia silently watched, only giving a nod or slight grin when needed. Her plate went untouched. She was too focused on Gomez to bother with food.

He's barely speaking to me. He's hardly looked my way, she thought. Could it be guilt? I must talk to Gomez! I'll do it after lunch, when I know I can get him alone.

* * *

The distinguished scent of a cigar and tapping sound of a stock ticker led Morticia to Gomez. For a moment she stood mutely behind him, watching his intense studying. Resolutely, she swooped in like a bat in the night.

She folded her arms, held her head high, and sternly spoke. "Gomez, Cleopatra has been poisoned."

"That's terrible!"

Her face softened. "You really think so?"

Without missing a beat or turning around – "Absolutely! I should have invested in that wildebeest farm when I had the chance."

She dropped her shoulders. This wasn't how she rehearsed it. She was determined to get a straight answer from him. She turned to plan B for her next strategy.

"Darling, Lurch tells me you've been very busy. How about a nice fencing match to… loosen you up?"

"Capital idea!" This time he spun around and took her in his arms. "Cara Mia, you always know what I need." He placed a kiss on her temples.

She reciprocated by lightly raking her long, blood red nails down his cheek. "Yes, we both each other so well, don't we darling? There are no secrets."

He earnestly shook his head. She pursed her lips. The nails always turned him into a puppy.

The spacious living room soon became their battleground. The pair half fought, half danced as they happily sparred. Gomez animatingly ducked and dived while she concentratedly stood erect.

"Mama has found a remedy for Cleopatra. She should be back to normal by tonight."

"Leave it to Mama."

 _Clink. Clink. Clink._

"I was very worried, Gomez. She seemed so fine yesterday."

 _Clink._

"What'd I tell you, 'Tish? See, she bounced back."

 _Clink. Clink._

"But weren't you at all nervous?"

 _Clink._

"Not when she's in hands as loving as yours."

 _Clink. Clink. Clink. Clink. Clink._

"Were you in the conservatory yesterday?" She had Gomez up against the harpsicord. Both swords were locked. Only the occasional explosion from Uncle Fester's tree house could be heard. She would get the truth from him, she would.

He smiled, unaware of the weight of her question. "Querida, you haven't forgotten our magical day already? The lightning, the cold dampness of it all, the attic, the cave, the playroom – and you, passionflower." He put down his sword. Before she blinked he had dashed his way to her side, grabbed hold of her free arm, and began showering it with kisses.

Her lips started quivering as her sapphire eyes turned to liquid. In a feeling of defeat, she blurted out, "Oh Gomez, did you poison her? Was it you? Just tell me already!"

Gomez, who was already to her shoulder, instantly stopped. He broke away quicker from her than she had ever seen him do. The confusion, and slight hurt, was written clearly on his face. "Poison Cleopatra? Me? No. She's a beloved member of the family. She's your baby!"

Relief flooded her body. She was finally rewarded with the reassurance she needed. "Oh, Mon Cher, Bubala, no, of course it wasn't you. My darling, thank heavens." Her smile was brighter than the dreadful sun, but it took his breath away every time.

It was all the encouragement Gomez needed to continue kissing her. He worked his way across her back and to her other arm when he paused. "What ever gave you the idea that I did it?"

Morticia nervously looked around. "You seemed so inattentive and distant this morning. I thought you were avoiding me because of – guilt."

"By Jove, I never realized… Querida, forgive me. I had several business matters to deal with and I – "

"Darling," Morticia intervened, "forgive me. I shouldn't have been so selfish." She wrapped her arm around his neck.

Grabbing hold of her wasp-waist, he lowly growled into her neck, "How can I ever make it up to you?"

She arched an eyebrow, "later."


	4. Chapter 4

Evening soon came. As was their usual after dinner routine, the whole family was gathered in the living room. Lurch was giving Wednesday lessons on the harpsicord while Pugsley and Thing played a game of tug-of-war. Uncle Fester and Mama were at the fireside, waiting for Fester's caldron full of chemicals to boil. Gomez was on the floor trying out the latest Zen yogi position as he puffed on a cigar. Morticia, meanwhile, worked away at the sweater she had been knitting for a distant relative.

"Mama, Uncle Fester," Morticia spoke gently above the music, "how is the potion coming along?"

"Not quick enough!" Uncle Fester quipped.

"Now Uncle Fester, you must have patience," she said in a motherly tone. "With Mama helping you I'm sure it'll turn out splendidly. Just look at how well Cleopatra is doing." Then turning to Gomez, she said, "She ate all her zebra meatballs tonight."

"That's wonderful 'Tish, just wonderful!"

With a twinkle in her eyes she added, "And she even tried to strangle another plant."

Gomez jumped to his feet. "Even better! My dear, I am curious…" He walked over to the small end table where the empty poison bottle was placed and picked it up. "If I didn't do it, and you figured I was the only one who could've, who did?" With the bottle in tow he began pacing in a circle from the conservatory archway, past Mama and Uncle Fester, and to Morticia and back.

Morticia put her knitting down to watch him. "I don't know darling, but I'm just so happy Cleopatra is back to normal."

Uncle Fester had also been watching Gomez. On his third lap, Uncle Fester stopped him. "Gomez, where'd that come from?"

"Morticia and Mama found it this morning in the conservatory." He handed the bottle to Morticia.

Uncle Fester snapped his fingers. "So that's where I put it!"

"What?!" Morticia rose from her chair, shocked and mortified. Her eyes were saucers. The music stopped.

He gave her a strange look. Then, grinning ignorantly at Gomez, he said, "I ordered it the other day for my experiment. It looked too yummy to waste on that though, so I had a couple drinks after our outing yesterday. Poison is always good before bedtime you know. Gee, I must've been so tired I didn't even think to put it away."

"Uncle Fester," Morticia scolded, "you mean to say _you_ poisoned Cleopatra?" She defiantly stood by Gomez's side.

Uncle Fester bowed his head like a child being reprimanded. "Well - I – Gee, Morticia, when you put it that way…"

Her chest was heaving. "Uncle Fester you nearly killed Cleopatra. How many times have Gomez and I told you not to leave your poison laying around? What if it was one of the children who got ahold of the poison instead?"

"Oh, I didn't think about that," he said solemnly. "I really am sorry." He plopped down on the stool, thinking about worse consequences that might have been.

Morticia and Gomez shared a glance. Perhaps she was being too hard on him. She stroked her soft black hair and, clearing her throat, handed him the empty poison bottle. "I suppose accidents happen. Besides, Pugsley and Wednesday both enjoy poison too much for it to do any harm."

Bearing a cheeky grin, with his cigar in hand, Gomez chimed in, "They do have an exceptional immune system!"

She smiled at Gomez. Then, tilting her head, she turned her attention back to Uncle Fester, "Just don't let it happen again Uncle Fester. Hmm?"

He grinned widely. "I won't Morticia. I promise! From now on, all my poison will be safely stored away in the pantry right next to all the other spices, herbs, and condiments."

She nodded her head in approval.

"Now that the mystery is solved – music Lurch!" Gomez emphatically took Morticia by the hand and walked her to the open floor. The two blissfully danced to Lurch's melodies. Once the beat picked up, it didn't take long before the rest of the family joined in.

"By Jove! Would you look at that?"

Morticia turned around, wondering what Gomez was looking at. In the moonlit conservatory, a straggly, vine-like plant was swinging around in tune to the rhythm of the music. If the poison was still in Cleopatra's system, no one could tell.

"A true Addams!" Morticia proudly exclaimed.


End file.
